


Sunshine and Sweat

by Tomibunny (Tomigiru)



Category: One Piece
Genre: Creampie, F/F, F/M, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Scent Kink, Squirting, Trans Male Character, improper usage of powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-10-20 04:43:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10655160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomigiru/pseuds/Tomibunny
Summary: The Strawhats love each other--they are friends and sometimes lovers, and there aren't many boundaries between them.This is just a bunch of poly Strawhat porn. Have fun!





	1. Helping Hand (Sanji/Luffy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luffy notices that Sanji has some pent-up...frustrations. What kind of captain would he be if he didn't help out?

_“Isn’t it annoying to just leave it like that? I can help, you know.”_

The words floated into Sanji’s mind for the fourth time that day—no matter how many snacks he had prepared for the ladies, no matter how many drinks and extra meals he had had to make for the overly energetic crew—he couldn’t get his mind off it. The repetitive sound of the knife hitting the cutting board stopped as it placed it to the side, leaving the onion he had been cutting to sit there as he fished a fresh cigarette from his pocket. He patted himself down for his lighter, trying not to focus on why he couldn’t remember where he’d placed it. When it was finally in his hands, it took multiple tries to get it to actually light.

He grumbled—after all this time spent with a crew as ridiculous as this, he was going to let this shake him? A simple proposition… No. He placed his hands on the counter, bracing himself. He glanced at all of the things around the kitchen—the counters around his workspace were impeccable, not hinting at how heavily he’d thrown himself into his work today. It wasn’t simple. It was anything but simple—because he didn’t want something like this, because Luffy should know better, because he didn’t swing that way and because…he was lying to himself when he said any of that.

Deep in his bones, he _did_ want it. He wanted to take his idiot rubber captain up on the crazy offer.

 

It had been a few nights ago—they were partying, for some reason or other. They didn’t really need an excuse, so whatever ridiculous reasons Luffy or Usopp came up with usually slipped his mind. The lawn of the Sunny was painted in lovely shades of orange and gold from both the setting sun and the bonfire that Franky had started. He had been busy working his way back and forth from the kitchen to where Nami and Robin had been sitting comfortably on deck, resplendent in their party outfits—which were just bikinis with colorful sarongs and a couple flower crowns that Usopp had made them. He had given a graceful twirl before bowing before the ladies, tray in hand with drinks and snack cakes carefully balanced on it.

If either were impressed, though, they didn’t really show it. Robin gave the same small, kind smile as always, and Nami gave a quick word of ‘thanks’ as she took a drink. But ah—wasn’t that enough for him? Even seeing those slender fingers trace the glass stem of the cup was heaven… If he had been paying more attention, he likely wouldn’t have gotten hit by a stray volleyball. The thing about parties on board is that not many of the crew members really knew how to play any type of sport—mostly, they just knew how to throw the balls. Typically in an aggressive fashion. His guess would’ve been on Luffy or Franky tossing the particular ball that had struck him in the back, throwing him off-balance just enough for it to be a problem.

Then—like a miracle—Robin’s hands were there, sprouting from the soft grass of the Sunny and from his own sides to steady him. Slender, clever fingers and warm palms on his calves and thighs. God—his thighs, right there, _so close_ …the heat swept over him so fast it made him dizzy. As the hands did their work to right him and Robin chuckled softly about how rough the men a few feet away were playing, the fire blazing through him dropped right to his lower stomach and…to somewhere else. That had been the ultimate cue to get away from the ladies. He couldn’t remember any other time he’d hurried away from them so quickly.

When he reached the kitchen, he had braced himself on the door frame, glancing down to the rather embarrassing tent in his pants. He was 21 at this point, he scolded himself. He ought to have some self-control. But…he bit his lip. Robin had touched him. Robin’s hands had been on his innermost thigh, so close that just a small amount of movement would’ve brought those delicate fingers to—to—  
The train of thought he had been caught in was only proving to make the situation worse. And then, it had happened. The damned moment that left him, days later, trembling in his kitchen, allowing onions to sit half-minced on the cutting board.

He had still been leaning on the door frame, trying to make his breathing even out when he suddenly wasn’t alone. If the overwhelming warmth of the body suddenly pressed to his back hadn’t given away who it was, the arms that had suddenly wrapped around his body threefold certainly did. Sanji had been about to protest—tell his captain to go away, assuming the man was trying to pull him back to the lawn for some ridiculous activity or another. Before the words could leave his mouth though, Luffy’s hand had slunk low, down to Sanji’s stomach and then lower still, warm palm pressing against the like of his hardness through his slacks. The sudden, rough contact coupled with the surprise of being touched at all had almost made him cum, right there. Luffy’s next words hadn’t helped any.

“Isn’t it annoying to just leave it like that? I can help, you know.” Sanji had replied to the statement by angrily disentangling himself from his captain and escaping to the kitchen—whether Luffy had been disappointed by that or not, he wasn’t sure.

 

Now, here he was, being haunted by those words still. The offer shouldn’t be so tempting—was he that desperate? He had already burnt through his first cigarette, though it had done nothing to calm the shaking in his hands. He shoved it into an embarrassingly full ashtray and fished another from the carton, pulling his lighter from his pocket as well. The flame wavered along with the tremble of his hands as he lit it, taking a deep pull. Hoping the smoke and nicotine would calm his body down somehow.

He wanted it.

He wanted Luffy.

He wanted to grab that rubber idiot and shove him to his knees and— God. He really was desperate. Worse than that—he knew, deep down, that this wasn’t desperation. He knew that no matter how he tucked away the hidden trysts or shoved down the nights he’d spent with strangers, the desire for this still hung around in the back of his mind, ready to pounce. And Luffy—Luffy had cut right through all the armaments he’d set up to keep it back there, so much better than a strange face and so much harder to deny. Sanji sighed and went back to mincing the onions.

He knew which one was the truth—he knew Luffy was too damn magnetic for anyone’s good. He knew no one could stay away. Most of all, he knew that the whole ladies’ man persona didn’t wash away what he slunk off to do on shore leave—didn’t completely quash all the feelings he tucked into his back pocket, kept close only for anonymous meetings in lieu of letting the crew find out. How long had he been shoving it down? It was hard to tell, now. And along comes a certain rubber idiot who can somehow reach down to the core of his being, tear right past the lies he’s been telling himself for years, and make him burn and hunger with just one touch.

He had to say yes.

He couldn’t say no.

Weren’t things always like that, though, with Luffy? He sighed, turning back to preparing dinner as he finished his second cigarette. There were still so many questions—like how to go about something like this, and when, and where…but somehow, it felt as if it would all simply come together. The thought comforted him enough that he was able to relax through dinner (relax in a relative sense, that was, when dinner involved cooking for a crew like the Strawhats) and continue on his night as normal.

He had been right—some kind of strange intuition he was sure that every single one of the crew had developed about their captain—about things coming together on their own.

He was cleaning up after dinner when the door creaked open, the sound of sandaled feet rushing inside following the initial noise.

“Luffy. You’re the shittiest at sneaking around.” He said it without even turning around as he washed the dishes, hearing the door shut before there was a soft thud. Supposedly Luffy flopping down onto the floor in defeat.

“No fair. I was trying really hard, too.” Luffy announced. “Sanji, I’m hungry. Don’t you have anything for me?”

“You’re just not suited to being quiet, dumbass.” He placed the last plate on the drying rack, turning around to raise an amused brow at his captain. “Dinner was only half an hour ago.”

“Yeah, but Sanji, I’m hungryyyyy.” There was a beat of silence before Luffy’s face broke into a large grin. “I know you have something for me, right? I’m right, right?”

“When are you ever right about anything?” Despite the reply, Sanji was walking past the sink and dishes to the fridge, punching in the key code and grabbing a bento box from inside. Luffy’s grin had reached blinding levels by this point.

“I’m always right about my crew.” He answered. There was a kind of certainty in his tone, a sudden seriousness, that made Sanji’s back straighten a bit too much, his shoulders bunching up. There was a soft flicker of recognition in Luffy’s eyes at the cook’s sudden tenseness, and Sanji found himself cursing internally. Luffy was one hell of a conundrum—an idiot for sure, without question, but so perceptive it was frightening.

“Luffy.” Sanji got the word out before his brain could catch up or tell him what a bad idea it was to breach the subject. Those gangly arms had already stretched out, plucking the bento box from Sanji’s open palms and practically tearing it open to get at the food inside. Luffy’s mouth was, amazingly, already half-full when he seemed to register that Sanji had said his name.

“Hm?”

“About…something you said, before. A few days ago actually. I…” He hated this. He felt stupid. He could feel the blush spreading on his face, could feel the tips of his ears burning. Since when could he not speak to his own damn captain? It was ridiculous. The man sitting on the floor of his kitchen was an idiot—crossed-legged, scrawny-looking no matter what he ate, chipmunk-cheeked from shoving food in his face, and absolutely amazing in every way. He felt like an idiot for being awkward and at the same time felt as if there were no way to be anything other than that when it came to Luffy.

He was too bright, too quick. How could someone keep up without stumbling at least a little? Yet, how could he have trouble finding the words to say to someone who could practically read his mind already? The silence stretched on for what seemed like far too long. Luffy was still eating, but something in those dark brown eyes had turned pensive. Searching. It made Sanji’s stomach flip-flop in a way usually reserved for beautiful women.

“When I said I’d help you with your boner, right?” Just like that, the tension evaporated—Sanji was grimacing at the word choice, Luffy was laughing at the cook’s face, and the topic, by some magic, wasn’t off limits anymore. The same magic Luffy always used—stupid. Stupidly perceptive. Awful, and amazing. Sanji shook his head, letting out a harsh chuckle.

“Yeah. That.”

“So, yes?” Luffy’s hands were on him already, unreasonably warm. They stayed within where they were still allowed before Sanji answered the question—hesitant against his shoulder and his lower arm, feeling as if they were burning a path through his veins.

“Yes.” Sanji said, before he could really think about it. It was the feeling in his gut—the part of his thoughts he would shy away from, would be unable to express if given too much time to mull it over. Luffy paused, those bright brown eyes bright and full of that unique sense of understanding, before pulling Sanji closer. The kiss was sloppy, not rehearsed or polished in any way, and Sanji was instantly in love, his hands craving to grasp onto his captain’s slight form, his hips hitching forward softly.

"Not here, though.” Luffy chuckled as he pulled away, the sound soft between teeth pressed into an excited smile. Sanji didn’t think he could hold back for long enough to get somewhere else—the idea of this as a possibility, of the chance and continuous choice to touch his captain (to have his captain), lit an eagerness in him that made him feel as if he were nineteen again, not twenty-one. It made him feel as if—embarrassing enough—he could cum here, barely touched, simply at his captain’s whim. However, he knew at the same time that it wasn’t true—Luffy had said they had to move somewhere else, with that strange kind of joyful authority that he had. Sanji knew that no matter how much fire was running through his veins, he couldn’t ignore a command from Luffy.

He simply nodded, head still swimming from the warmth of palms against him (not even against him, not yet, still separated by layers of cloth and yet still so, so warm, almost hot, almost burning—), waiting to see where Luffy would lead him. Luffy, all simplicity and understanding wrapped into one, led them back to the men’s quarters—no one was there at this time of day, the after-dinner sunlight driving everyone to the deck to work on their respective crafts. Actually—it was more likely most of them were relaxing or sleeping than getting anything done. Either way, it left the men’s quarters peacefully empty.

Before he could mull over the situation more, Luffy’s arms were wrapped around him, tugging him down to the nearest bunk. It wasn’t either of theirs—Sanji couldn’t help the smug smirk that slid onto his face at the idea that it might be Zoro’s—but it didn’t seem to really matter. Sanji opened his mouth to say something, but was quickly blocked by Luffy’s lips on his own. His captain kissed like a stormy sea—unpredictable, powerful, taking up all of his attention immediately. Sanji was surprised to find himself groaning into the kiss easily, not even upset when Luffy pulled away softly to chuckle at the noises he’d garnered from his cook. Luffy stayed close, breath hot against the corner of Sanji’s mouth and his cheek as those incredibly warm hands slipped low, undoing Sanji’s belt with a surprising amount of ease.

“You’ve done this before,” Sanji said, unable to keep the wonder out of his tone. He should’ve known, the way Luffy had grabbed him when he had initially made the offer. The way that warm hand had known just where to press, just how to touch him. Sanji’s hips twitched forward, his cock jumping at the thought. Luffy’s hot breath had migrated to near his ear, another chuckle and a small nip of teeth serving as a response before the words came.

“Yeah, has Sanji?”

“No, idiot, I’m not…I’m not into men.” He answered, voice faltering as Luffy’s hand felt along the hard line his cock had formed in his pants before moving to unbutton and unzip his slacks.

“Really?” Luffy shuffled to the side so he could pull Sanji’s pants down to his thighs, shoving his dress shirt slightly up his stomach. Sanji gasped, abs tensing at the warm contact of Luffy’s palms, so incredibly soft despite all they’d been through. “You’re so weird, Sanji.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you.” He said, obstinate even as his captain’s fingers wormed their way under the waistband of his boxers and his breath caught in his throat when his cock was freed to the air of the cabin. Luffy wasted no time wrapping his hand around Sanji’s cock, pressing another bruising kiss to his cook’s mouth—one that was over too fast.

“Tell me the truth.” He murmured, changing the angle of his wrist so he could rub his thumb against the head of Sanji’s cock, where an embarrassing amount of pre-cum had sprung forth. Sanji grit his teeth together, trying to bite back the whine that threatened at his throat as Luffy’s other hand shoved further up his shirt, fingers teasing at one of his nipples. “Sanji.” Luffy’s tone was insistent.

“Drop it.” Sanji said, pulling away slightly. Luffy loosened his grip, letting the cook back up into a sitting position. He was nice to look at, like this—his fine blonde hair messy, his dress shirt rumpled and rucked up around his chest while his slacks and boxers had been pulled down enough to show his toned thighs that were speckled with leg hair. Most importantly, Luffy could see the way his chest was rising and falling quicker than usual, and how hard his cock was against his stomach.

“I will if you tell the truth.” Luffy smirked, lowering himself into an almost predatory crouch, licking his lips before moving slowly towards Sanji’s crotch, eyeing his prize. Sanji’s breathing was heavy enough that he could hear it, and despite the muttered complaint that Luffy couldn’t make out, Sanji’s legs fell open slightly, allowing him better access.

“Luffy—goddammit—“ Sanji’s words melted into a soft moan as Luffy’s tongue pressed to the tip of his cock, teasing and wet. Before he could get his bearings to try and start the sentence again, Luffy’s whole mouth was on him, pulling him in. He cursed, hips jolting up at the sensation—Luffy was good at this. Luffy was too damn good at this. Sanji’s eyes rolled back as Luffy tongued at the vein on the underside of his cock, knowing how to hit all of his sweet spots. He was pretty sure he would’ve admitted anything his captain wanted to hear if he could just stay like this forever, Luffy’s hot, wet mouth on him in the privacy of the men’s quarters.

“Is Sanji going to tell the truth?” Luffy’s tone was teasing when he pulled away, and the sight when Sanji looked down made his cock jump so forcefully that it bumped against Luffy’s lower lip. Luffy looked absolutely debauched, lips swollen and spit-slicked, a trail of saliva running down his chin. The proximity of Luffy’s lips to the tip of his cock was tantalizing—the urge to grab that soft black hair and force him back down onto it makes Sanji’s fingers twitch.

Fuck, he was doomed.

“Shit.” Was all he really managed in response, and suddenly Luffy was pulling away more and that was the last thing he wanted in the world right now.

“Sanji’s body is more honest.” Luffy said with a smirk. A finger—god, Luffy was impossibly warm, Sanji thought in passing, marveling at it—traced softly around Sanji’s hole, pressing just enough to tease. Luffy’s fingers were dry, and Sanji knew (or knew _now_ , at least) that his captain was too experienced to try something stupid. He was being purposefully maddening. Of course he was. Luffy was as right as always—Sanji couldn't lie about the way his hips twitched forward, the way a fat drop of pre-cum leaked from his cock onto his stomach at the idea of being filled. “It doesn’t have to be about other times Sanji has done it.” Luffy said simply, shrugging as he moved his hand from Sanji’s ass back to his cock, stroking him as he moved closer, practically smothering him with his heat.

Sanji muttered a small curse again—of course Luffy would know, somehow, that there had been…men. In the past. Though not as far in the past as Sanji might like to pretend.

“I just want the truth.”

“Luffy—“ His name trailed off into a groan as Sanji’s eyes fluttered closed, something in Luffy’s hand movement fitting just right. Sanji took a deep breath, opening his eyes again to see those deep brown eyes, full of heat and excitement and expectations. Luffy was warm against him, bare chest pressed to his side, the texture of that x-shaped scar scratching at his shirt. He could feel Luffy’s erection through those denim shorts, insistent at the crux of his thigh as his hand continued to stroke him.

“Yeah, Sanji?” There was such promise, such raw curiosity in the question that Luffy breathed into his ear that it made Sanji’s eyes flutter closed. He couldn’t lie to himself forever, much less his captain.

“Yeah. I’ve done it before…a few times.” He muttered, frowning despite the pleasure thrumming through his veins.

“This’ll be better.” Luffy’s voice was mischievous against the shell of his ear, his lips close enough to the skin that he could feel the way his mouth was curled into a smile. Sanji groaned, his head tilting back until it hit the wall behind the hammock, the soft ‘thunk’ sounding much louder in the following silence. Luffy moved from his ear, shifting to his neck, nibbling and sucking with sharp determination. There would definitely be a mark tomorrow—Sanji tried to go through his wardrobe in his head, contemplating if he had anything to cover his neck, but the slow slide of Luffy’s warm hand against his cock scrambled his thoughts, leaving him to moan and thrust his hip up into the sensation.

Luffy made his way quickly down the terrain of Sanji’s stomach, stopping to lay periodic kisses on some of the muscles there, stopping to grin next to Sanji’s cock, his hand tight on the base.

“I’ll make it so Sanji doesn’t get distracted around Nami or Robin.” He said plainly. “Or Usopp.” His smile took a turn for the teasing as he said it—Sanji opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Luffy’s mouth returning to his cock. Those deep brown eyes stared up at him expectantly as his tongue played with the tip, teasing against the slit and tasting the pre-cum that bubbled forth. Sanji was at a loss for words—no matter how he wanted to protest, or even ask how Luffy had even noticed his… _thing_ for Usopp, nothing could make it past his lips other than heavy breaths and groans at the way his captain was teasing him. Luffy sunk down on his cock, still staring up at him as he swallowed him to the root.

Sanji cursed softly, unable to stop himself from thrusting up into the wet heat when Luffy’s throat contracted around the head of his cock. Luffy seemed absolutely undeterred by that—he barely even blinked. Sanji tried to make a mental note that “no gag reflex” should be listed among his captain’s skills, but it was difficult to keep track of anything at the moment. Luffy pulled back from Sanji’s cock—an embarrassingly loud gasp escaped him at the sudden loss of that sensation—smiling as always.

“Does Sanji want to go all the way?” His hand was still tending to Sanji’s cock, the movement frustratingly slow, slicked by his spit. “It’ll be fun.” Sanji bit down on his lower lip, glancing around him—did Luffy know where to grab lube from? He couldn’t think right now, the slow friction and well-adjusted grip on his cock causing his brain to melt to its baser components. All that could go through his head was “ _fuck, fuck, fuck_ ” and the need to keep thrusting his hips to match Luffy’s pace or, preferably, speed it up. Luffy chuckled, moving to straddle Sanji’s legs. “Come on, Sanji.”

Those brown eyes were full of mischief and hunger, and Sanji simply nodded. Luffy made a happy sound, shifting them both so that Sanji was lying on the bed properly instead of half sitting on it, half propped up against the wall. He stepped off the bed quickly, tugging his shorts off—and of course he wasn’t wearing underwear, his cock jutting out proudly, announcing how much the events had been affecting him too. He scrambled back onto the bed on top of Sanji eagerly.

“Wait, Luffy, where are you going to get—“ Sanji interrupted his own sentence with a sharp inhale as Luffy moved to hover over his hips, moving his hand to grip at the base of Sanji’s cock and stand it up straight. “I haven’t even prepared you, we need lube or something, what are you doing—“ He was babbling complaints still when Luffy laughed, sinking down just a bit so that his cock, spit-slicked and still leaking pre-cum like a broken faucet, pressed against his hole.

“It’s okay, ‘cause I’m rubber.” Luffy said simply. “It feels better too. Trust me.” He wiggled his hips, bearing down a bit harder until the the tip pressed in—Sanji cursed, eyes widening as his feet went to press flat on the bed, hips thrusting up so hard they lifted off the bed. Luffy shouted, the powerful thrust combining with gravity to shove his hips against Sanji as closely as they could be, Sanji’s cock driven in to the root. Sanji watched in awe as Luffy tossed his head back slightly, eyes glazing over with pleasure and his mouth hanging open, drool making his lower lip glisten in the light. Sanji kept his hips lifted, the weight of his captain nothing for his powerful legs to handle.

It was true—it felt amazing. Luffy’s walls were amazingly tight around him, just pliant enough to let him in, gripping him like a vice. He wondered if Luffy always felt like this—curious enough that his sex-addled brain considered (though only for a moment) asking the shitty marimo. He felt like he could stay like this forever, letting the clench of Luffy’s muscles milk his cock, the small fluttering movements of Luffy’s insides when he took a deep breath driving him insane.

“Sanji’s…so deep…” Luffy whined, circling his hips. His captain looked wrecked—eyes still bleary with delight, lips already slick when his tongue peeked out to lick them, only adding to the spit shine. “Keep fucking me like this, Sanji.” He said—it was unquestionably an order. Luffy’s arms went to hold the bunk above him, his hands gripping the wooden boards there for dear life. Sanji got the message—Luffy would stay there, suspended, and he could use the power behind his legs (and all his training) to piston into him like this. Just the thought made him groan.

“Sanji?” Luffy asked, glancing down at him. The sight of him was beyond gorgeous—the stretch of muscle and sun-kissed brown skin only interrupted by the pink of the scar on his chest—and Sanji, for a moment, couldn’t believe he had ever tried to sell that he wasn’t into men. He realized, then, that Luffy was waiting for a response to his order. “Yes, captain.” He answered, and the words in this context only fanned the fire sitting in his lower stomach as he let his hips fall, watching Luffy’s body lower a bit from the lack of support before he tensed his arms to hold himself there. He didn’t have to keep it up for long—Sanji snapped his hips back upwards, moving to grip Luffy’s hips at the same time to shove them impossibly closer.

Luffy’s gasps and shouts as he repeated the motion made it worth it. Luffy’s cock bobbed with the intense thrusts, the way his back was bowed thrusting his chest towards Sanji. He wanted to touch his captain more, but didn’t want to disturb how perfect this position was—the way that his rough thrusts held all the power of his leg muscles, the way Luffy keened and his eyes rolled back when his cock sunk incredibly deep into his captain, stroking his prostate and causing long, sticky drips of pre-cum to drool from Luffy’s cock onto his stomach. Maybe next time they could try something else. He didn’t even try to wonder when he had decided there would be a next time.

There would have to be, wouldn’t there—not only did Luffy know so much more than he ever let on, but now that Sanji knew he could have this…how could he stay away? The thought urged him to speed up, making Luffy let out half-choked off sounds and sobs, almost startled by each new thrust.

“Sanji—ahh, Sanji y—cum inside—nh, ple-please.” Luffy choked out, cheeks pink, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. Sanji was going to object—Luffy hadn’t cum yet, and neither of them really had a free hand to help with that. The thought of being able to fill his captain up with his cum, though, urged his hips to keep moving, snapping up against his ass, the smack of flesh against flesh almost drowning out the creaking of the bunks from their frantic movement. Sanji groaned, lifting his hips even higher as his toes curled, spilling into Luffy’s tight heat.

His orgasm hit him so hard that his vision went white as he arched his back and shifted his hips up even further, pushing to see how far he could go, fucking his cum even deeper into Luffy as the few final spurts escaped him. Luffy moaned appreciatively—Sanji felt a splatter of warmth against his abs, startled by it.

“Luffy, did you cum…from me cumming inside you?” He had to ask, incredulous at the concept. Luffy glanced down at him, looking hazy in the afterglow, and nodded. Sure enough, Sanji looked to see splatters of cum that shot up to his pecs—the prime suspect being the man who was currently perched on his cock.

“Down, please.” Luffy whined, pouting slightly as he came back from the high of his orgasm. Sanji’s eyebrows lowered into a frown, trying to piece together what Luffy was asking before he realized he was still holding his captain up with his hips.

“Oh. Yeah.” He started to lower his hips at the same time that Luffy let go of the upper bunk—the weight that hadn’t been anything near a problem was suddenly much more than he remembered in the post-orgasm bonelessness that he was caught in, and his footing slipped, causing his hips (and the added weight of Luffy’s entire body) to come crashing down on the bunk. There was a cacophony of painful creaks and a sound snap—a noise familiar to both of them as the sound of breaking wood. They had time to make quick, startled eye contact with each other before the wood siding of the bunk snapped entirely, the mattress unbalancing and toppling them to the floor.

Sanji cursed, the fall made painful by the fact that he was still inside of Luffy. Luffy was already laughing his head off before he even processed everything, pulling off of Sanji to bounce to his feet and check the damages. Sanji immediately curled into a ball as soon as Luffy was off him, hands cradling his oversensitive cock. He quickly checked in with himself—knowing he would still sleep with Luffy again, even with this added turn of events, and hating himself a little bit for it.

“We broke Zoro’s bed.” Luffy stated simply. That was enough to make Sanji get over the pain almost immediately—the fact that he had soundly fucked their captain on the stupid swordsman’s bed and then broke it filled him with so much joy that nothing in the world could possibly hurt him in that moment. “Oh well. Franky can fix it.” Luffy shrugged, acting as if that solved the entire situation, then turned to Sanji with a wide grin.

“What?” Sanji asked, not liking the way that Luffy leaned in to him, taking up his personal space with that strange smile plastered on his face. “Why doesn’t Sanji just ask the others to do this, too?” He smiled sweetly, but Sanji could see the flicker of a scheme in those wide eyes.

“It’s not that simple.” Sanji answered, fishing his clothes off the floor from under the mattress and patting his pants pocket for his cigarettes and his lighter.

“That’s what I did.” Luffy shrugged, wrapping his arms around Sanji’s torso—irritatingly, since Sanji was trying to get a cigarette to his lips and light it.

“You don’t count. You’re a weirdo. Nothing works that way for anyone else in the world.” He lit the cigarette, letting the smoke flood his lungs. The perfect touch to some very, _very_ good sex. Though he’d honestly prefer to be smoking and lying down—which clearly wasn’t in the cards.

“It could.” Luffy muttered, mouth close and words muffled against Sanji’s skin. Suddenly, a bit of hope settled itself in his stomach, a seed planted in the rough soil of anxiety and turmoil. He let out a jagged laugh, smoke billowing out of his mouth with it.

“I’m going to get back to the kitchen before that musclehead gets in here and sees what we did to his bed.” He disentangled himself from Luffy, tugging his boxers and pants back on, trying not to think about the various bodily fluids drying on his skin that were now going to get on his clothes. He’d shower after he made sure he could avoid everyone else who was on the ship.

Luffy seemed unbothered by his sudden need for departure—almost as if he had predicted that Sanji would turn tail and run. Seeing his captain standing there, unsurprised, almost irritated Sanji enough that he could’ve turned around, maybe, and stayed there stubbornly. Almost. He tugged his shirt onto his arms, shrugging the cloth onto his shoulders, not bothering to button it for the time being.

“Did it help?” Luffy asked. He was smiling like he already knew the answer, and Sanji’s lips twisted into a smirk at it.

“I’ll see you again in a few days, maybe I’ll know then.” Sanji walked out of the men’s quarters, the promise he had just made hot on his tongue—the feeling of possibility bouncing around in his chest. _It could_ , he remembered Luffy saying. It could work. With Luffy—with the others, too, maybe. The thought added a bit of a bounce to his step as he went to go bathe.


	2. Yoga (Zoro/Nami)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nami invites Zoro to do some yoga--they end up burning calories in some more creative ways, as well.

Nami did sometimes come up to the crow’s nest while Zoro was training—she was the navigator, after all, and needed to use the perch to observe the ocean stretching out ahead of them. Most of the time, she would simply act like Zoro was part of the scenery and ignore his grunting and short breaths as he lifted those ridiculously heavy weights. Today, though, something was different.

Firstly, she had shown up with stuff. Not just a telescope or binoculars (not that she tended to often use those as a navigator anyway), but a strange rolled up thing, a water bottle, and a backpack. Zoro raised an eyebrow.

“Hi, Zoro!” That was the second thing—she was actually acknowledging he was there. It was enough to make him cautiously put down the weights he’d been lifting, his instincts putting him on a sudden high-alert. He was almost positive she was scheming something. Something related to gold, or his debt…the thought sent a shiver up his spine.

“Uh.” He said eloquently. He lifted a hand in a half-wave, which he figured would suffice. The quicker he got the pleasantries over with, the faster she’d admit she was up to something, right? It seemed a solid enough plan, in his opinion.

“I was wondering if you wanted to work out with me?” Nami set the armfuls of stuff down on the gym floor, which made Zoro notice the third thing—she was dressed very differently from usual. Instead of a bikini top or one of her many logo t-shirts and jeans or denim capris, she was wearing black cotton pants that tightly hugged her legs and a simple blue shirt that had short sleeves.

The whole thing was, altogether, highly suspicious.

“Work out?” Zoro felt the need to check that he had heard correctly—Nami, exercising? With him?

“Yep! The only other quiet place on board really is the library…and it makes more sense to come to the gym to exercise, right?” She grinned brightly, which only made Zoro’s eye narrow in suspicion.

“What’s the catch?” He asked, crossing his arms. Nami glanced off to the side, pursing her lips in contemplation—thinking about whether to reveal her plans or not, clearly.

“Well, I was thinking…” She hummed softly, putting her hands on her hips. “I was thinking we could do the kind of work out that someone like me is more suited to.” Zoro raised an eyebrow. If it were a workout for someone of Nami’s strength, it wouldn’t do much for someone like him, now would it? She seemed to almost read his mind, throwing her hands up defensively.

“But it’ll be helpful for you too! It’ll help you work on stuff you probably don’t focus on very much!”

“Like what?” Okay, she had caught his attention—something that he needed to focus on more? Something he was missing from his regular training? That was essential information if he were to become stronger. Her head bobbed up and down as a bright smile came onto her face—the kind of cheer that she showed when tracking weather, or drawing maps. It took him by surprise.

“We’re going to do yoga!” She clapped her hands together before grabbing at what looked like an uncomfortable bedroll—the tube thing she’d walked in with. She took a Velcro strap off it and spread it on the floor—it was a mat, long and rectangular, with a simple floral design on it. “Don’t worry, I brought one for you too.” She pointed at another that Zoro hadn’t noticed—likely because he hadn’t known what they were, and decided to ignore them. Zoro grabbed it uneasily.

It was plain black—at least she was mindful of the fact that he probably wouldn’t want to exercise on a flowery pink mat, he thought. He took the Velcro strap off the mat as well, spreading it out in the same way Nami had.

“Okay. Now what?”

“Well—“ Nami glanced at Zoro as she toed off her flats. “You’re already barefoot, so that’s good. Just step onto the mat and follow me.”

He did as he was told—after she tied her hair up in a messy bun, she stepped to the front of the mat, palms pressed together in front of her chest. He raised an eyebrow, but followed suit.

“How is this supposed to be exercise?” He tried to copy her stance as best he could—a strange feeling caught up in his stomach as his eye traced her form. Nami usually showed much more skin—just a bikini top, most of the time, and even if there was a change of outfit she typically wore short skirts. While all that seemed to get a rise from their perv cook, it had never really phased Zoro.

However, Nami’s hair tied up, copper curls spilling free here and there to tumble down against her neck…the way those simple cotton pants hugged her legs…it made his mouth go dry. It was bizarre. He realized, his eye stopping to watch her face, that she’d been speaking for a while.

“Zoro…Zoro. Are you listening to me at all?” The blank look he gave in reply must have been all she needed by way of answer, because she sighed deeply before launching into her explanation again. “Yoga is about breathing and balance—I figure you’re probably pretty good at the breathing thing, but I thought the balance would be helpful. The poses would be good for your muscles—I see you lifting weights all the time, but I never see you stretching. There’s different ways that you have to take care of your body, you know.” She finished her little speech, nodding. He nodded back, still a bit unsettled by the strange feeling that had nestled itself in his stomach.

“That…makes sense.” He agreed—he supposed he had slacked off on certain aspects of training the body, focusing on what his muscles could handle, but not on other parts. He was a bit surprised Nami had put so much thought into this.

“Now, I want you to lift your right leg—putting your weight onto your left foot—and press your right foot to your left leg, like so.” Nami did as she had said without a qualm—her leg bent out to the side and her foot pressed into the space just above her knee. Zoro grunted and tried to lift his leg like she was doing—body bending to the side almost immediately in an attempt to counter-balance. He tried again, this time getting his foot to press against the calf of the other leg before wobbling out of the pose.

He paused to consider whether this counted as the most embarrassing moment of his life. He was failing at exercising—at training—in front of a crewmate. One of the ones who needed his strength the most.

Nami turned her head, smiling sympathetically.

“Don’t freak out just because you’re not perfect at it, Zoro—“ There she went again, reading his mind—“It takes practice to do balancing poses. Start with your foot lower to the ground. You can move your hands away from your chest to balance if you have to.” He ended up acquiescing to her advice rather quickly. From the first pose they moved on to a few simpler things—he enjoyed the warrior poses, though he was thrown by how much his sides objected to what Nami called “reverse warrior”. She had been right—he needed to work on the flexibility of his muscles.

Around the third pose that involved balancing, though, he was close to giving up. He was smart enough—or perhaps just in tune with his body enough—to feel why Nami would choose this as exercise. He could feel the way his abs tensed in certain poses, the stretch and satisfying burn of his hamstrings as they had stood in lunge positions. It was admirable, really.

And, frustratingly, he couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t.

He glanced to Nami, serenity on her face feeling like sand in his eyes as she extended her right leg backwards, out into the air as she bent her torso forward. He huffed, instead sitting down on the mat, crossing his legs.

“Zoro?” He glanced up to where she was still—irritatingly—holding her pose, but she had turned towards him, looking confused. “I guess it’s okay if you take a break...If you watch for a bit, maybe it will help you pick it up easier when you start again.”

He didn’t respond, still disappointed in himself for being unable to do something that Nami made look so simple—although he guessed she did that with many things he couldn’t do. She made navigating look easy, which it certainly wasn’t, and could sense the changes in the weather the way he had come to sense the voices of his swords. He supposed it only made sense that she would be good at other things as well—but failing at something related to exercise and training still made him burn with embarrassment.

Then, on top of that, there was still the problem of the strange feeling in his stomach. It bubbled back up as he watched Nami place her leg down, going through one of the “warrior” stances again before settling into what she had called “downward-facing dog”. The discomfort flushed quickly into heat as he traced the muscles of the back of her thigh up to where her butt was stuck up into the air, and it hit him.

Was Nami… _attractive_?

He supposed he knew the answer to that, what with how the pervert cook lost his mind around her, and how men would try to kidnap or target her…Maybe the question to ask was instead…

Was _he_ attracted to Nami?

He couldn’t remember the last time in his life he’d found a woman attractive without resurfacing painful childhood memories. He supposed Perona might’ve counted for something, but that didn’t feel quite the same. For starters, Perona had initiated—he didn’t so much find her attractive as much as he was willing to accept her offer when faced with the idea of two years without any physical contact. On top of that, she was always coming up with bizarre shit to do to him. It just hadn’t been the same as the kind of intimacy with women that idiots like their hopeless chef seemed to desire.

Here, though, staring at Nami as she moved into a plank position and then lifted herself into downward-facing dog again, the heat slowly coiling in his stomach was unmistakable. He may have been unfamiliar with a desire towards women, but that certainly didn’t make him a stranger to desire. The heat thrumming through him only intensified as Nami moved into some position he hadn’t paid attention to the name of—adjusting to be on her hands and knees, her back arched impressively.

There was no mistaking it—he wanted her. She shifted, bowing her back and stretching in the opposite direction and he felt his dick twitch in his pants, the heat pooling in his stomach quickly becoming unbearable. The curves of her body were tempting, the gentle line of her neck and the freckles that danced their way up to where stray ginger curls fell loose of her bun begged to be touched.

Zoro was standing before he could really think about what he was doing—stepping towards her, faster than he could think. She was gorgeous, eyes shut peacefully and breathing steady, unaware of the world. He dropped to his knees, feeling as if he were barely breathing, his hands going to her hips before he leaned down, pressing his face into the space between her legs, nosing the soft cotton and breathing in deeply, his cock jumping at the smell.

He couldn’t argue at all against her hitting him after she pulled away and righted herself.

“Zoro! What the fuck was that?!” She asked, eyes wide, face red, her hand pressed to her chest as if it would somehow settle down her rapidly beating heart. She looked entirely scandalized—Zoro supposed she was. It made sense, after what he had done.

Even with all the sound hits he had received, he could still feel that he was hard. He let out a soft groan, trying to sort his thoughts through the blood pounding in his ears.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t _know_?” Her shriek made him wince, but he couldn’t fault her anger for even a second. He clenched his hands against his pants, his fingers still itching to touch her again. Her scent had made the fire burn even brighter. It was alien, and interesting, and he hated himself for his inability to tamp this down. Something in his face must’ve revealed at least a bit of his turmoil to her, because her eyes softened suddenly. “Oh my god. You really don’t know, do you?”

“I—“ He clenched his fists tighter, feeling his short nails bite into the palm. “I wanted to do that, but I…I don’t know. I’ve don’t feel this way usually about…women. It’s…easier with, you know, with someone Luffy, I could just—“

“Okay, okay, wait a second.” He glanced up to see she had shifted closer, hands reaching forward towards him. His eye skimmed her face—shifting from anger to some kind of confused softness, her neck bare and open due to her hair being pulled up. His glance slipped down to her freckled shoulders, and the fire in him sparked up again, urging him to press his lips there, to taste with his teeth. His eye snapped back to her gaze, though, when one of her soft hands touched his face.

“What?”

“You’re telling me—in the stupidest way possible, but, of course—that you’re into me.”

“I think so?”

“You _think_ so?”

“I don’t know!” He shouted, yanking away from her touch. “You have to make it all complicated—all touchy, and nonsensical. You don’t make any sense! Yet here I am, thinking all these thoughts as if I’m that shitty, perverted cook! How many times do I have to make it clear that I’ve never had to deal with this before? I’m not…I’ve never been interested in women.”

“Okay—listen.” Her hand was suddenly on her thigh, gentle and incredibly soft, far too close to his own clenched fist. “I’m...I won’t say I’ve never been curious, Zoro. But you can’t simply—just. Augh. You can’t just tackle people. Not everyone is like Luffy, they’re not just going to laugh it off or be able to understand what you want without using words, you know.”

Her fingers touched the top of his hand, and it took an amount of restraint that he didn’t want to admit to when the sensation of being touched surged through him.

“I’m sorry.” He gritted out. Tried to not focus on the fact that she had hinted at her interest—she was right. Being with Luffy had spoiled him a bit. He wasn’t certain if he knew, anymore, how to be with someone who wasn’t Luffy. How to be with someone who couldn’t feel and think what he was feeling—someone who couldn’t answer the questions he’d never verbalized in the way Luffy did. It was ridiculous to think he could initiate anything, especially with a woman—he only knew enough to know he was out of his depth.

“It’s okay. I know you’re not good at words—I think, uh, everyone knows you’re not. Okay, listen…” Nami’s fingers skimmed the top of his hand again, the soft motion making the fire inside him surge, making his dick jump shamefully. “We can try again, okay? But you have to use your words, okay?”

Zoro’s brain stalled out for a bit—the sudden 180 from self-deprecation to imagining that he could experiment with these feelings was too severe of a shock to the system. She wanted him to use his words? He could hardly use his brain at the current moment.

Her hand was still sitting patiently atop his though, warm eyes waiting, expectant but not forceful. It was a mystery to him how she’d gotten so good at this—this communication thing, something he never really trifled with, something that she seemed to grasp with complete ease.

“I…” He thought, first, of all the denials he could bring up—he wasn’t into women. He hadn’t slept with many people other than Luffy. He didn’t know what he was doing. None of that seemed like it would get them very much of anywhere.

“I want you.” Finally left his lips, and he saw a glint of something completely recognizable in Nami’s eyes, though it was strange to see it on her—lust. She licked her lips, the flash of pink tongue suddenly hypnotizing to him. She leaned forward, so close that a few loose hairs brushed his cheek as she put her lips close to his ears.

“Then you can have me.” Her words caused him to inhale sharply, fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. She pulled away quickly, smiling brightly. “See, wasn’t that eas—whoa—“

His hands were on her hips again, pulling her forward quickly. She yelped, her back hitting the yoga mat before she could catch herself. She pushed up onto her elbows, eyes wide as he pulled her onto his lap, her lower half sitting comfortably atop his thighs.

He moved his grip from her right hip to her thigh, lifting her leg up and resting it on his shoulder—he wasn’t too terribly concerned about her flexibility after the earlier displays. He leaned down, pressing his face to her inner thigh, appreciating the soft cotton against his cheek before he took a deep breath in, smelling her sweat.

She gasped, and he could feel the way her hips lifted towards him from where her legs sat upon his, could smell the surge of arousal from her—God, he wondered, when did she get so _wet_? He leaned in closer, and she whimpered—the good kind. He was a bit out of his depth here, but he knew enough to know she liked this.

He moved the hand from her thigh—which was propped pretty safely on his shoulder, her muscles tense, knee bent to shove him forward, heel digging into his back. Leave it to Nami to be demanding even without saying a word. He moved his hand to between her legs, pressing right against her sex, fingers charting out the softness of her lips and how damp the cotton was down there. When he pulled the hand away, his fingers were coated.

She took a breath—sharp, trying to pull in some self-control—as he pressed his face close to her crotch, breathing in deeply.

“I-is the sniffing thing something I’m gonna have to get used to?” Her voice is too breathy for it to have the sardonic edge she wanted it to have. Zoro lifted his head slightly to smirk at her—her cheeks pink, her chest heaving under her thin t-shirt, her nipples just slightly visible through layers of fabric.

“Are you wearing underwear?” He asked, not answering her question. Instead, he dipped down again to nose at her pussy through her pants. When he mouthed at her through the fabric he could feel her inner lips against his mouth, could feel the soft bulge of her clit against the bridge of his nose. He knew the answer was no.

“N—Zoro, stop teasing.” One of her hands, thin and soft, moved to his head, fingers gripping at his short hair and shoving him harder against her. He felt himself begin to smirk, wild and sharp—perhaps it was a good thing she couldn’t see it, what with him being buried between her legs. He nosed hard against her, reveling in the sweet noise that escaped her at the more insistent press of the bridge of his nose against her clit.

“Do you care about these pants?” He asked, pulling away, his mind drifting to how he must look—he could feel that his face was wet with her slick in the cool air, and he was still shoving down the urge to flash that feral grin.

“What?”

“Do you care about these pants,” He repeated, less of a question this time, voice falling flat with the repetition of the sentence. Nami’s face shifted as she mulled over the question, trying to figure out what Zoro could mean.

“No?” She answered, finally settling on wanting to see what Zoro would do over the other options. Zoro felt his face crack back into that wild grin, unable to help it, and he nodded, placing his hands at Nami’s inner thighs, grabbing handfuls of cotton. Then, he pulled. The seams didn’t stand a chance.

Nami was saying something—he could hear her, shocked and a bit scandalized, probably upset about the waste of nice clothes despite the fact that she had technically agreed to his actions. He wasn’t listening, however. Without the pants in the way, the view was gorgeous. She was ridiculously wet—despite her complaints about the sniffing, she was clearly into it. That, or she had a serious thing for yoga.

Her hair was neatly trimmed, a simple patch of bright orange sitting above her pussy—even that was glistening with wet. He licked his lips, the only warning she got before he ducked down, burying his face in her, truly, without any cloth in the way. He inhaled again, nose buried in her pubes as he sucked at her clit, smelling the mix of slick and sweat that made his cock dribble pre-cum within his pants.

“God—Zoro, wh—you’re, why are—“ Nami’s stuttering made a bolt of smugness run through him. She was usually so talkative, and yet here they were, her words failing her as his tongue circled her clit. He leaned back just enough to flick his tongue over it, glancing down to appreciate how hard it was—he moved his fingers up to pull the hood even further away from it, baring the whole nub. She whined, high and sharp, dissolving into a moan as the tip of his tongue traced the now-exposed skin, reveling in her sensitivity.

“I…you said—“ She was cut off by her own moan as he moved his fingers from holding back the hood of her clit to rub and press insistently at her entrance. “I thought—fuck—you hadn’t been with women…” 

"I said I wasn’t interested in them.” He pulled away to answer, his face even more soaked with her juices—the sight made her throw her head back, groaning softly. “Not that I’ve never been with a woman.” His thoughts flitted briefly to Perona—not that he did most of the touching it that relationship…it was typically being touched. “Anyway, Johnny has a pussy.”

“Oh.” Nami said, mollified. There was more she wanted to ask, about multiple aspects of his statement, but she figured this wasn’t really the time.

His fingers went from pressing teasingly against her entrance to pressing in, the feeling and the slick sound of it (was she really that wet? The noise his fingers made sinking into her was absolutely filthy) making her lose her train of thought. The pads of his fingers were thick with callouses, and without wasting anytime he pressed in as deeply as he could, crooking them to rub against her most sensitive point as he went back to teasing her clit with his tongue.

All she could do was toss her head back, practically seeing stars. She had gone from unable to form sentences to babbling—Zoro was still smirking against her, enjoying the way she had lost control. It was fascinating to see her fall apart, especially with this new view of her. Now that he looked at her, his feelings from earlier were even clearer. She was gorgeous—more of her hair falling loose from her hair tie as she moved her head against the floor, her stomach exposed from her shirt riding up, her breasts still moving with her heavy breaths.

It was still strange, even as he was in the middle of this, to find a woman so beautiful. Then again, he thought, pulling back to nose at Nami’s thigh, enjoying the way her tense muscles relaxed at the movement, Nami wasn’t beautiful because she was a woman. Nami was beautiful because she was Nami. He supposed that was enough of an explanation for him—nakama were a special exception. To everything. They always were.

He went back to pressing his tongue to her clit, tracing circles around the nub or flicking his tongue over it. The combination of the sensations—his tongue on her, his fingers pressing insistently against the sensitive spot inside her—was starting to make her legs shake. Zoro could feel it as well, redoubling his efforts when he realized how close she was.

Nami gasped, hands scrabbling against the yoga mat as Zoro’s tongue only sped up, his fingers pressing harder into her. Her orgasm crashed over her like a wave, the buildup cresting finally, her back arching as she cried out. Zoro pulled his mouth away at the movement, not wanting to overstimulate her, but kept his fingers inside so he could feel the way she clenched around him as she came.

“Fuck,” Nami said eloquently, her back uncoiling from the impressive arch she had managed, her muscles relaxing in the afterglow. Zoro pulled his fingers out, slipping her leg off his shoulder.

“How long do you need to rest for?” He asked, moving to slide his pants off. He was still painfully hard—the smell of her lingering on his face and fingers not helping to tamp down his arousal any. She sat up slightly, glancing down at his cock with a mix of appreciation and apprehension.

“I…should be good to go in just a bit—“

“Good.” He took her hips in his hands again—gentler this time, but still solid in his grip. Nami shifted along with his movements, not really questioning it. He lifted her to her side, then so her stomach was flat on the floor before lifting her hips up towards him. She got the message quickly enough, placing her knees under her hips and lifting her torso up with her arms.

“Already? Christ, Zoro.” She muttered. He only grinned in response, tugging her ruined pants down to her thighs, admiring how she spread her legs slightly—as if on instinct, baring what she could to him. He grabbed her ass cheeks, spreading them, moving to press against her soaking pussy, tongue teasing quickly at her entrance—oh, and what a sweet gasp he got as a reward for that—before he moved to lick softly at her perineum.

He pulled away, hands tensing against her cheeks, spreading them more so he could appreciate the view. She groaned, pressing her hips back to help in the effort. She had sounded exasperated at how soon they were starting, but all of her movements were beautifully eager. He leaned in, tracing the tip of his tongue against the lovely pink of her asshole.

She jumped at the sensation, huffing a sound of pleasure-surprise. He didn’t tease her for long there, pleased with just a small push of experimentation, moving his head back so he could move closer to her, shifting onto his knees so that his hips were level with hers.

He pressed his fingers into her again—more to check if she was adequately stretched. She was certainly wet enough, that was for sure. He pulled his fingers away quickly, trying not to laugh at the small sound of discontentment she made at the loss. Instead, he took his cock by the base, shuddering at finally having some contact and friction, lining it up with her entrance before slowly pushing in.

She tensed at first, then relaxed as he pressed in further. It was difficult to stop his eyes from rolling back, the grip of her walls around his cock and the filthy sound of fucking into her when she was so wet making his cock throb, fire alighting down his back at the waves of pleasure assaulting him. She rocked her hips back to take in more of them, her arms collapsing so that she was supported on her elbows, the slope of her back enticing as her t-shirt rucked up from the movement.

He took his hands off her hips only to take his shirt off—it was already damp with sweat, and there was no need to keep it on and let it get soaked. When his hands returned to her hips, his grip was tighter. He bent so that his chest could press to her back, getting as close to her neck as he could.

“I’m going to start moving.” He said. Maybe this communication thing was easier than he had initially thought. Nami certainly seemed to like it if the way she nodded enthusiastically and the small, sweet sound of appreciation was any hint. It was interesting—typically Luffy was the one talking, simply filling space with off-handed dirty talk, and he was free to be quiet. Thinking of what to say, talking to someone while he was inside of them in more than monosyllables or noises was a new feeling.

It was one he was starting to think might interest him more than previously thought.

He pulled back, almost slipping out of Nami before he thrust forward again, making her whole body shift forward with the force. His hands held tight to her hips as he set a brutal pace—the wet smack of skin against skin filled the room along with Nami’s moans and gasps and his own grunts of pleasure and exertion.

The next time he pulled back, he angled his hips lower, thrusting back in with more strength. Two things happened at once—the head of his cock bumped into something hard, and Nami wailed like a cat in heat. The sound was startling, but it sounded like one she made of pleasure. He grinned, pulling back just slightly before thrusting in with all his strength again, bumping into the dead-end once more. Another near-unearthly scream escaped Nami, her hands scrabbling at the yoga mat as her hips desperately tried to push him in even deeper.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Zoro, holy shit—“ She pressed her forehead into the mat, trying to regulate her breathing. "Is that—God,” She stuttered, feeling too embarrassed to say what it was. Zoro didn’t respond, but she could practically feel the smugness roiling off him in waves. Zoro’s grip on her hips pulled her as tight against him as she could be before he rolled his hips, grinding the tip of his cock against her cervix—that had to be what he was bumping up against, she thought, and, _fuck_ , it was mortifying how good it felt.

Zoro rolled his hips again, one hand leaving her hips to trace his index and middle finger in circles around her clit in time with the grind of his cock against her. She came undone in a matter of seconds, loud sobs growing shriller and her muscles tensing, making her freeze up like a beautiful statue before him. He took his hand away from her clit as quickly as he could, pulling out and pressing his hand harshly around the base of his cock to keep himself from cumming.

He let her lie down, panting and soft now that she had relaxed from the powerful orgasm. He gave his cock an experimental tug—immediately going back to holding it at the base, far too close to play with himself as he waited for her to recover.

“Holy shit, Zoro.” She commented, rolling over onto her back, breathing heavily. She let her legs fall open easily—her pussy was a pretty shade of red from the aggressive fucking, her clit still hard. He had no doubt she’d be willing to let him fuck her until he finished, too. The way her eyes roved over his body—finally settling on where he was holding his hard cock and sparking with hunger—only confirmed his thoughts. Still, this was about communicating, wasn’t it?

“Are you ready to start again?”

“God, you really _are_ a monster,” she muttered, sitting up and tugging her shirt off. She made a displeased face at how damp it was, keeping the face as she pulled off her sports bra as well. Zoro watched, fascinated, as her breasts sprung free. The freckles that graced her neck and shoulders spread down the creamy, lighter skin that was typically protected by her bikini—much more far and few between than the smatterings on her arms and cheeks. She seemed bemused at how absorbed in the sight he was. “You can touch them, you know.”

He leaned forward, confident that with the lull in action he could take his hand off his cock without the worry of finishing too soon, pressing his palm to the swell of one of her breasts. He may have been familiar with all the lower bits (he thanked Johnny in his head, in passing), but this was something new to him. A jolting reminder that he was sleeping with a woman—one who wanted to do more than tie him up and do strange (but upsettingly pleasurable) things to him.

He brushed his thumb against the soft pink of her nipple, enjoying her gasp and the way she spread her legs just a fraction more at the sensation.

“Ready, now?” He asked, glancing down at her spread legs hungrily. She chuckled, shaking her head.

“Same position?” She asked, reaching up to pull her hair out of the bun, letting her fiery locks tumble down over her shoulders.

“I’d like that.” He said, trying not to give away how fond he was about certain positions and certain power dynamics. He could communicate, maybe, but that seemed like a bit much for him at the moment. Nami nodded, moving back to her hands and knees as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Zoro realized, in that moment, that she likely was making this easy—or at least making it seem easy—for his benefit. He wondered how you would even go about thanking someone for something like that.

Instead of dwelling on it, he went back to her, running his hand over the back of her thigh before dipping his fingers against her entrance, smearing the slick there even more. The wetness had spread in-between her thighs, the messiness only encouraging Zoro. He slid in easily, groaning at the way her walls clenched around him.

He began thrusting at a quick pace, enjoying the way her sharp inhales matched with his inward thrusts. He was incredibly close now—she was so slick he felt like he could almost slide out of her when he pulled back, yet at the same time she had started clenching down tighter, nearly holding him in place. He couldn’t see her face, but he felt that if he could, he’d see that tricky determination in her eyes—he had no doubt she was doing it on purpose.

He folded over her, hips still pistoning, one of his hands moving to her hair to twine his fingers through it. Luffy’s hair was soft, too, like hers, but the sheer length and volume of her hair was something new and interesting for him to play with. He didn’t pull on it—simply stroked the locks, running his fingers through it gently. He pressed his nose against her back, near the nape of her neck, breathing in deeply. She smelled like sweat and sea water.

“I’m close.” He muttered, wanting to give some warning. He didn’t know whether he was meant to pull out or not—he hoped not, the wet, tight heat on his cock nearly unbearable at this point. He wanted to sink further into it as he came—wanted to fill her up and make even more of a mess.

“You can do it inside.” She replied to his unspoken question, eyes closed as she enjoyed the slow-burn of pleasure from being fucked after already orgasming twice. She could cum again, probably, but it would take a while—for now, her body shook with tiny shocks of pleasure as Zoro thrust into her, settling into her stomach as a simmer instead of the raging fire it had been before.

Zoro grinned at the allowance, thrusts speeding up and becoming more erratic as his grunts and groans mixed in with Nami’s soft gasps and whines, his orgasm building to a crest. His fingers dug into her hips hard enough to leave bruises as he hunched over her, driving his cock in as deep as he could as cum burst forth in long jets.

Nami sighed happily at the sensation, relaxing around him as if she’d cum again, even though he knew she hadn’t. He stayed there for a while, still buried deep inside her until his breathing slowed back down to a normal pace, the static leaving his mind as he came down from the high. He pulled out, eyes glued to her pussy and the way that his now-softening cock pulled out some of his cum alongside it, making it drip lewdly from her entrance.

Before she could move, he bent down, pressing his tongue to her pussy and lapping at the mess they’d made together, the taste of his cum mixing together with how much slick she’d produced. She let out a small squeal of delight at the sensation, the sound twisting into a moan as he moved to rub his thumb against her clit.

It took longer to work her up to her orgasm this time, after she’d already cum twice, her muscles loose and soft as he dug his tongue into her, tasting her and licking up his own cum. Eventually, the insistent press of his thumb teasing at her clit combined with his tongue exploring her entrance began to stoke the embers enough to cause sparks, her thighs beginning to shake again as the pleasure finally added up, nearing too much.

It wasn’t as noisy as the first two—a high, keening whine as she pressed her hips back towards his mouth with the few needy pulses that her pussy made against his tongue. He pulled away, licking his lips as she let her legs collapse to the floor, quickly rolling over to her back and tossing her arms over her head.

“Holy shit.” Nami chuckled, taking in a few deep breaths as she lay there, eyes closed and face held in an expression of sweet satisfaction. Zoro nodded, moving to lounge on the other yoga mat, feeling as if he deserved a bit of a break too. Sex wasn’t much of a workout compared to his usual exercise schedule, but the mental and emotional aspect always left him a bit more winded than weightlifting could ever accomplish.

They laid there in silence for a while, Nami still breathing in and out in deep, measured breaths, trying to relax her body and save herself from the future soreness in store for her hips. Zoro watched her, appreciating the relaxed lines of her body, feeling the same surge of warm affection he felt when he watched his crewmates stand together as one against an enemy. That made a thought cross his mind, though, and he finally broke the silence.

“I’m going to tell Luffy about this.” He mentioned off-handedly. It was true—he was. There was no point in not telling Luffy, after all. The captain could see right through him as if he were made of glass—and even if he couldn’t, there weren’t many things Zoro was willing to hide from Luffy regardless.

“Wait—so you and Luffy really are a thing? Like, _currently_?” Nami sat up, suddenly looking disgruntled. She glanced around the room before she stood up, starting to gather her clothing. Zoro lifted an eyebrow, mystified by her sudden switch in demeanor.

“Yeah. I thought everyone already knew that Luffy and I were—“

“I thought since you were…you know, all that? That we just did? I thought that because of that it meant you and Luffy were just—that I was just imagining things? Or I thought you maybe weren't on right now.” She set a glare on him that would make lesser men wet their pants. He simply gazed back with equal intensity—although there was a bit of curiosity in the mix. “I thought, since you slept with me, that you and Luffy weren’t _actually_ an item and that I was just, I dunno, projecting?”

“No. We’re an item. If that’s what you want to call it. I think it’s usually referred to as ‘lovers’, though.” His reply got nothing but her balled up—and ruined—yoga pants thrown in his face. “Why are you mad?!” He asked, frustration lacing his tone. He couldn’t play this guessing game anymore. He didn’t get it.

“You just cheated on Luffy! With _me_! Why wouldn’t I be mad?!” Her voice was loud, nearing hysterical. She ran her fingers through her damp hair, making it clump together in an interesting, frazzled fashion.

“Cheated?” Zoro stared at her for a second, wondering, before he burst into laughter. “Cheated—you think Luffy minds if I sleep with other people? It’s not like I’m in love with you—wait, you’re not secretly in love with me, are you?”

“God, _no_.” She answered, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

“Then it doesn’t matter, does it? I don’t think Luffy will care much. It’s not like he can keep it in his pants either.”

“Charming.” She replied sarcastically—he could see that the line of her shoulders had reset itself, though, tension leaving her. She really had been worried about causing any problems between him and their captain, he realized, and he felt a swell of appreciation for her—even more than he typically did.

“I just figured I’d let you know that he’s gonna know—he might bring it up. Or want to try it out himself.” Zoro smiled wolfishly at that addition—knowing Luffy, if their captain found out Nami was game for these kind of physical activities, the chances of him leaving her alone were slim.

“Great.” She rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed by the prospect. “I’m going to go bathe, you animal—go find your boyfriend and tell him about your conquest, I guess.”

“I will.” He shrugged, standing up so he could gather his own clothes from where they had been scattered on the floor, glancing at the two sweat-damp yoga mats that were still there. “So, are you gonna stop by for more of that yoga stuff sometime?” The question had an undercurrent of many more questions—not all of them necessarily about exercise. A fond look flickered over Nami’s face before she was able to conjure up her typical mischievous smile.

“Maybe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy this one was.....a struggle. It started with me wanting to write Zoro doing yoga at Nami's behest and became this big thing because I felt like I needed a TON of character exposition to make the ship work for this big ol' polycule of a crew. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy--and I hope you appreciate the grueling character work that went into this, lol


	3. Self-Esteem (Luffy/Usopp, Sanji/Usopp)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a.k.a. The one with a super long intro that tricks you into thinking it's about a different ship than it is.

Usopp didn’t really have the best self-esteem—it wasn’t really a well-kept secret either that his bravado and his lies helped to cover up his self-doubt. He doubted it’d ever go away fully. Even now, waking up to a beautiful man next to him in his bed, he had a hard time believing it was real. It had been, though—it had been real for a while, this thing between them.

Now, though, glancing at Sanji’s sleeping face in the low light of morning, it felt like he was dreaming. He lifted his hand, tempted to shake Sanji awake just for some sense of confirmation, but was immediately hit with guilt at the thought. He had already asked Sanji time and time again about the nature of their relationship. Enough times that he felt he was being a nuisance, even though Sanji had assured him almost every time that he wasn’t.

Things like that—Sanji feeling the need to reassure him time and again—only made him feel worse. He settled for laying his hand on Sanji’s head, fingers gently playing with the strands of fine blonde hair. The questions he wanted to ask caught on his tongue, feeling too heavy to put on the shoulders of other people.

_Why me? What are you really getting from this? Why do you bother coming back to my bed when you’re sleeping with other people anyway?_

He winced at how harsh the last one had sounded in his head. Sanji made a small grunt, lifting his head, bangs plastered to his forehead and messy with sleep.

“Usopp. You’re awake.” Sanji yawned, pausing to press his lips together and work his jaw. “What time is it?”

“Sometime around sunrise—your sleep schedule has kind of rubbed off on me.” Usopp answered, trying not to show how flustered he was by the fact that he was speaking the truth—even before they made a habit of waking up in each other’s bunks, Usopp had gotten into the habit of waking up when Sanji did to watch him get ready in that efficient, business-like manner he had.

Sanji rolled out of bed to do the same now, feet landing on the floor with a smaller sound than one would’ve assumed—nimble as always, even when doing something as simple as fishing his clothes out of the dresser and pulling them on. He tightened his tie, glancing back up at Usopp as he grabbed his pack of cigarettes off the top of the dresser.

“What?” He asked, his curled brow arching up as he looked at Usopp and fixed his bangs simultaneously.

“What, what?”

“You’ve been staring. Like you want to ask me something.” Sanji stepped closer to the bunk, not really worried about waking the occupant of the lower hammock—it was Chopper, who slept like a rock typically.

“I—it doesn’t matter.” Usopp shrugged. Sanji’s eyebrow stayed firmly raised, expression taking on a hint of dissatisfaction at the answer.

“Clearly it does—come on, I have a bit of time before breakfast really needs to get going. Walk with me.” He motioned to the door that led outside, eyes big and hopeful in a way that Usopp couldn’t say no to. This man was going to be the death of him—frustrating and comforting and kind and annoying as all hell.

It didn’t take him long to pull on his overalls—he hopped along to keep up with Sanji as he pulled the suspenders over his shoulders to secure them on. He realized belatedly that he had pulled them on right over the underwear he’d already been wearing last night, but figured that could be fixed later.

“So, uh, what’s up?” His voice sounded more wobbly than he wanted it to, and he cleared his throat. “Gonna give me secret info on what breakfast is today? Maybe share some well-kept secret ingredients? You know, the kind that if you told someone, you’d have to kill—“

“Have you ever slept with Luffy?” Sanji asked, lighting his cigarette and taking a pull as they walked. The question made Usopp stop so quickly that it made him think of the noise of a car screeching to a halt. He wondered if it was possible to stop quick enough that a human actually could make that noise—especially with a shock like the one he had just experienced.

Sanji noticed that he had stopped, stopping himself and turning casually in Usopp’s direction. Everything about him was too casual, in fact, in Usopp’s opinion. The tilt of his shoulders, the way his eyes traced over Usopp’s chest before they came to rest back on his face, and the way his hands were sitting, unmoving, in his pockets, as if he were just leaning on the railing. As if he hadn’t just asked something absolutely bizarre.

“What?”

“Have you slept with Luffy? And keep walking—we have some time before breakfast, but not that much time.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket to gesture in the direction of the kitchen. Usopp begrudgingly started moving again, no matter how much his feet (and most of his brain) seemed to object to the idea.

“No!” He hadn’t slept with anyone else on crew—that seemed to be more of Sanji’s thing. Anyhow, he couldn’t muster up the courage to ask anyone else even if he tried. That made it worse, really—he was jealous that Sanji _could_ sleep with the others, and then was jealous that Sanji _was_ sleeping with the others. Well, maybe not jealous for that second part. More confused.

He just didn’t understand what made him special. Why a man who was so full-up of passion and could drift into the beds of beautiful women and beautiful men alike as he pleased would return to be in bed with him. He knew he couldn’t possibly measure up to the rest of the crew, and the idea that he was competing for Sanji’s attention with them and somehow winning felt like an elaborate ruse.

“Maybe you should.” Sanji’s words shook Usopp out of his thoughts—he looked up to see the man holding the door to the kitchen open, looking at him with open curiosity. Then, the actual meaning of his words hit. And soon after, the panic.

“Are you—are you breaking up with me?” His voice faltered a little, even though he had always secretly suspected something like this. His mind was already beginning to branch into paths of how this could go, how much he could embarrass himself, how Sanji would deal the finishing blow of their relationship—

“What?! No!” Sanji let the door to the kitchen fall shut as he stepped closer to Usopp, his hands touching his cheeks before they moved to hold onto his bare shoulders, shaking him slightly. “Why would I be breaking up with you?!”

“I thought—you just said—“

“We just had amazing sex last night, I got to wake up to see your gorgeous stupid face this morning, you walk with me and talk about the stupidest, most wonderful things, you’re—why in the _hell_ would I break up with you?!”

“B-b-but, you said—you were just suggesting I sleep with someone else, what the hell else am I supposed to think, dumbass? That doesn’t make any sense!” He wriggled out of Sanji’s grasp, face hot and fists clenched, suddenly full of anger. Everything was starting to bubble up at once. “What, you just don’t want to feel bad for being the only one who runs around? You wanna make it so that you can be like ‘ohhh well Usopp, you do it too, so it’s okay~’—what are you even trying at, here?!”

He was shaking, his shoulders aching to collapse and his eyes burning with tears he won’t let come. It felt ridiculous, screaming at Sanji outside the kitchen, accusing him of things he knows aren’t true. Plastering his own fears onto the very man that’s been present to try and assuage them every time. Did Sanji really deserve to be attacked just because he wasn’t good enough at putting Usopp’s fears to rest? Usopp wasn’t sure anyone could be good enough at that.

“Usopp…Usopp, calm down.” Those hands were on his bare shoulders again, this time rubbing his arms softly. Those gorgeous hands that were almost better kept than Nami’s or Robin’s, soft and skilled against his skin. The tears that had been burning at the edges of his eyes started to fall, and he could hear Sanji curse softly. Everything was made blurry by the crying, and he felt like he was in a bit of a trance as Sanji opened the door again, leading him to the table to sit him down.

“Shit—I’m sorry, Usopp. I didn’t think that…” Sanji sighed, giving Usopp some space to wipe at his eyes and nose. “I didn’t think. I was being shitty. I underestimated how much this shit really got to you and then I decide to just drop that on you—stupid. I’m sorry.” Sanji sighed again. Usopp looked up, eyebrows still drawn down, making him look miserable, but his eyes showing a small spark of curiosity.

“So. Okay.” Usopp sniffed, coughing softly at how dry his throat had suddenly become. “You’re not…breaking up with me.” Sanji nodded, and Usopp nodded back. His face had twisted into one of concentration—the kind he wore while building something or trying to solve a puzzle. “Then why did you say I should sleep with Luffy?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, okay? I know that me messing around with Nami and Luffy and stuff stresses you out.” Sanji ran a hand through his hair, glancing towards the kitchen. It was clear on his face that he wanted to be cooking, to get some of the stress out of his system somehow.

“I’ve tried to tell you that it’s different, or that it doesn’t really work that way, but obviously that’s not really working out. You can’t really just believe me that you’re special—which is fine, by the way, I get it. It’s fine. But, I mean, you’re right, probably. You can’t just take my word for it. It’s something you kind of have to experience.”

“What?”

“The difference between, y’know, being with someone else and being with you. ‘Cause it’s different. Even if I was in love with the other person it’d be different. But that’s something you have to feel to really understand.”

“Wait. You want me…to sleep with Luffy……to help our relationship?”

“Yes!” Sanji beamed at him with the power of multiple suns, radiating joy as if he hadn’t just said the stupidest thing Usopp had ever heard in his entire life.

“I’m sorry but, uh, have you looked at me?” Usopp asked, blinking in disbelief. It was a miracle that Sanji would sleep with him, and Sanji wanted him to try and get other people to do it too?

“Yeah? I—what? You’re gorgeous.” Sanji got up, moving away to open the fridge and root around in it—it was getting too close to time for breakfast for him to put it off anymore. He was still smiling. “Even if you don’t believe it, I know for a fact that everyone else agrees with me that you’re hot.” He set a pan on the stove, moving to turn it on and then drifting over to mince onions and peppers with an amazing sense of ease.

Usopp could feel himself blushing—Sanji saying that others thought he was hot with such conviction implied that he had definitely already talked about this with others. The idea that Sanji was…bragging about him? And that people _agreed_? It was near-impossible to believe, and the mere concept was extremely flustering. Who had agreed with Sanji? He bit his lower lip, chewing at the chapped skin there, daring himself to wonder who it could be that wanted him.

“I, okay, even if that’s true—“

“It’s true.” Sanji called back, not missing a beat as he cracked eggs into the pan, closing his eyes at the satisfying sizzle.

“Okay, but. Okay. You expect me to ask Luffy? _Me_?” That seemed to make Sanji pause and think, unlike the other argument. Usopp had to admit it was the stronger point—even if Luffy was interested in him, the idea of Usopp (the coward, the liar, the wobbly-kneed, shaking braggart) going up to the captain and propositioning him was just entirely unrealistic.

“Well.” Sanji hummed, flipping the eggs before he trotted over to the fridge again to grab some more ingredients, “ _I_ can ask him.”

“What?” Usopp turned in his chair to face Sanji better, but Sanji wasn’t looking. He was absorbed in plating the eggs before checking on his vegetables and cracking more eggs into the pan.

“I can ask him for you.” Sanji answered, moving to grab bacon and other cuts of pork from the fridge and turning to Usopp quickly to give a smile. “Luffy’s going to smell this and come barging in, just a heads up.” He tossed the bacon on the skillet and, just like that, the conversation was over. Things had been decided.

Breakfast, despite the conversation that had preceded it, continued as normal. Usopp only managed to eat two or three slices of bacon before Luffy hoarded it all for himself and shoved it into his mouth. Zoro was drinking—what exactly was in his cup was a mystery, but Usopp hoped it wasn’t alcohol. At least not this early in the morning. It was loud, raucous, and messy as normal. It was as if he hadn’t just discussed with his boyfriend (was that what they were? The word felt odd to use, even in his mind) how they were setting him up to sleep with his captain.

The rest of the day continued as normal, which was just as unsettling for him as breakfast had been. Every time that someone made a move to talk to him—especially Luffy—he felt as if he’d been found out. As if they were going to make a joke at his expense, or call him a pervert. It was completely unfounded, he knew, considering what most of the crew got up to with each other, but he couldn’t stop himself from worrying. He threw himself into fishing and inventing and gardening as hard as he could to distract himself from it.

It had to come to a head eventually, though—he had gotten Sanji’s word that he would ask Luffy, and he had no doubt that Sanji was entirely sincere about that. The whole day had become an odd sort of waiting game. After lunch, though, when he slunk off to tend to his pop greens in the garden, the waiting game seemed to be coming to a close.

“Usopp!” Luffy’s voice was loud and cheerful as usual when the captain threw his arms around him, dragging him off balance. Usopp took in a sharp breath, weighing whether this was a false alarm like the other few times Luffy had wanted to play tag or bother him today, or whether it was the real deal. He got his answer before he could think of anything to say or do, though. Luffy’s arms coiled around him, his hands moving to Usopp’s chest, fingers sliding under the suspenders of his overalls and groping at the handfuls of flesh unabashedly.

“L-Luffy!” He had expected his captain to be forward, sure—but this was a bit much. They were right out in the open, where anyone could show up and see them! Not that they were doing anything questionable. At least, not yet. “Luffy, get off!”

Surprisingly, his captain listened, his arms moving away from Usopp’s chest (and oh, the way those fingers “accidentally” brushed against his nipples as they left) before he moved to sit where Usopp could actually see him. He was smiling like nothing had happened—bright and sunshiny as usual. Or perhaps he was smiling like that _because_ of what had happened…and would be happening. The thought sent a bit of ice down Usopp’s spine. He didn’t know if he was ready for this.

“Sanji told me.” Luffy said simply, his smile disappearing for an instant in favor of licking his lips, fire dancing in his eyes. Suddenly, Usopp didn’t feel unwanted at all. The fact that he had almost seemed ridiculous in the face of Luffy’s expression. No—instead, he felt so wanted it sent a jolt of fear through him. The desire in Luffy’s brown eyes was staggering—terrifying, even. Usopp felt suddenly hot all over, his arms shaking despite his efforts to keep it together. It felt like he was being sized up to be eaten.

Far from unwanted—Luffy wanted him so clearly, so badly, that it was scary.

It must’ve been noticeable how much the mere idea shook him—both figuratively and literally—because Luffy’s face fell into a curious pout, his head tilting to the side, his hat cutting a bright line against the backdrop of the garden and the setting sun, making him into his own horizon line.

“It’s okay, right?” Luffy’s hands were on him again, before he could respond, asking in their own way. The touch was softer this time—not restrained, or hesitant, since Usopp was pretty sure Luffy wasn’t capable of those things, but considerably less grabby—soft palms running over his bare arms as if the movement itself could calm down his shakes.

“I—maybe? I mean, of course it is! Who do you think you’re talking to?” Usopp pulled away so he could bluster and puff up his chest, voice growing louder and higher in pitch as he continued on. “I’m Captain Usopp, familiar with all the highs and lows of the sea, of course I’m okay with s…ssssss…uh. That.”

“Oh, okay!” Luffy snickered, moving his hands back to Usopp’s chest, starting to slide the suspenders off his shoulders while his hands were very quickly sliding down Usopp’s torso, their paths seeming blazing hot as they neared his abs.

“Wait—wait, no, okay! Uh! I-I—I was maybe not telling the truth. I. Am not totally ready for this, I don’t think.” He scrabbled away, Luffy’s hands hovering where they had just been touching him almost comically.

“Lying?” Luffy scrunched up his face before laughing—his hands moving from where they had been frozen to slap against his bare knees. Usopp felt his own cheeks puffing out into a pout at the laughing fit his captain was having. “I totally fell for it!”

Usopp’s pout fell from his face, replaced by surprise. It wasn’t that odd for Luffy to laugh at himself, but…he had been certain he had made the fool of himself in this situation, not Luffy. Before he had time to think about it more, Luffy was scrambling across the deck to get closer to him again—they were backing up closer and closer to the row of flowers by the railing that belonged to Robin. Cornered, Usopp noted.

“Totally not ready?” Luffy asked.

“Well, maybe a little ready?” Usopp replied, waving his hand about in some sort of non-committal gesture. “Definitely not outside, though! What if someone sees us?!” The thought was absolutely mortifying—as if dealing with everything Luffy was putting on the table wasn’t enough, having someone else find them…oh, god, and what if it was Nami, or, worse, Zoro?!

“That’s what makes it exciting!” Luffy countered, smile widening. Usopp sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He didn’t understand how Luffy could be so comfortably unpredictable—bouncing back and forth from desire (and god, it had been the truest, deepest desire Usopp could ever imagine facing) to casual conversation to laughter. He made it seem so easy.

“No. Definitely no.” Usopp said, shoving Luffy’s face away. At least this part was still easy—touching him normally, playing around…chatting.

“Fine.” Luffy huffed before he jumped up from where he had been crouching. “Just wait a little bit, okay?” And just like that, Luffy was, for some reason, rooting through Robin’s garden boxes. Usopp jumped up, immediately in a panic.

“W-wait—Luffy, that’s Robin’s stuff, you can’t! What if you kill her flowers?! She’ll be so upset!!!” It wasn’t that he thought that Robin would actually hurt them, but there was that icy edge to her smile when she was upset that still sent chills through him. He didn’t want any part in anything that might force him to face that.

“It’s fine, Usopp, I know what I’m looking for!” Luffy said, elbowing him away. It was debatable whether it had been on purpose or whether Luffy just didn’t keep proper track of where his limbs were flailing. He pulled away from the flower garden, bumping Usopp away as well, holding a sleekly designed bottle.

“Oh my God.” Usopp groaned, running his hands over his face. “Luffy, where—what do—“ He spluttered and then gave up. Luffy was standing there, smile never faltering, a bottle of lube clutched in his fist. He was very obviously proud of himself.

“Don’t worry, Franky told me it was here, so we can use it.” Luffy’s arm was quickly wrapped around Usopp’s and then he was being dragged along before he could ask any of the plethora of questions that Luffy’s statement called for. Like, for instance, why would Franky be telling him where he kept the lube? Why was it kept in Robin’s garden? Did that mean Robin and Franky had—? In _public_? Often enough to keep lube there?!

He shook his head, trying to clear out the thoughts as he let Luffy lead the way to…wherever they were going. He thought that he was being dragged along to the men’s quarters, preparing to stop when they got near the door—instead, Luffy powered past, grip still tight on his arm.

“Wait, Luffy, where—” His attempt to ask where they were headed was cut off by Luffy opening the door to the bathroom and yanking the two of them inside quickly.

“There, this is private enough right?” Luffy asked, looking around. Before Usopp could stutter out an answer he was being shoved against the closed door and kissed soundly. Luffy’s tongue was inside his mouth—his captain tasted like cured meat, salty and savory. It was better than Usopp could’ve imagined. No amount of dreaming about things like this could’ve prepared him.

He groaned as Luffy’s teeth worried at his lower lip, the man pulling away slightly before he let go, smiling like the sun. Maybe Sanji had had the right idea after all, Usopp wondered. He didn’t have much time to think about it—Luffy’s warm hands were on his torso, this time divesting him of his suspenders and yanking down his overalls without any hesitation.

“Usopp looks really good like this.” Luffy commented. He stepped back to let Usopp kick off his boots and let his overalls fall all the way to the floor—but it was also to appreciate the view. Usopp’s torso was bare now, his chest heaving in a way that made Luffy appreciate the thickness of his pecs. His abs were tense, quivering just slightly. He was still wearing his boxers—the last line of defense from Luffy’s wandering hands.

“I—are…how do you, uh, want to do this?” Usopp asked, thinking it sounded lame as soon as it was out of his mouth. Luffy snickered, a soft sound, moving closer again so he could cup Usopp’s pecs with both his hands, squeezing slightly.

“Just like this is good.” He said. He ran his thumbs over Usopp’s nipples, enjoying the way the muscles jolted under his hand. He moved so he could tease at them with both thumb and forefinger, tugging and twisting them until they were hard and Usopp’s breathing was sharp and hurried. “Usopp’s got such nice boobs.” Luffy commented before he burst out laughing.

“I, uh. They’re alright, I guess? I don’t think—oh.” Usopp stopped his own words, bringing a hand to his mouth so he could bite down on his own thumb when Luffy’s hot, wet mouth found its way to his chest, teasing at a nipple with small flicks of the tongue and warm puffs of breath before he took it all the way inside his mouth. The sensation made his head spin, his hips bucking forward.

Soon enough, though, Luffy was moving. Of course he couldn’t stay put in one place for long. Instead his hands and mouth were soon trailing their way down Usopp’s torso, running over the ridges of his abs before stopping at the hem of his boxers. Luffy’s thumbs teased at the elastic, running over the cut of Usopp’s hip bones in a way that made his breath stutter.

The atmosphere in the room seemed to pause—silence settling over them as Luffy seemed to be waiting for…something. Usopp wondered if he should warn his captain about the “situation” downstairs, or if Luffy already knew. Before he could make his mind up about it, though, the pause had ended. Luffy had clearly decided that any objections that could’ve been made weren’t going to be, and his hand was pressed flat against Usopp’s crotch, feeling him through his boxers.

“Usopp’s really, really wet.” Luffy muttered, want making his voice ragged. Just the tone he had said it in, the pure desire that tinged his words, made Usopp moan. He wanted to say so many things—go on an absolute tirade about how this was all so new, about how he had a hard time believing even Sanji wanted him, much less other crew members, how he wasn’t ready to be sucked into this whirlpool of desire and sex and lust when he hardly thought he deserved it—but instead, all that came out of his mouth was a whine.

The heel of Luffy’s hand ground down against his boxers, hard enough to make a squelching sound, the pressure just enough to grind on his clit in a teasing sort of way. He whined again, letting his hips move forward against Luffy’s hand.

“Ah, we should sit!” Luffy said suddenly, pulling away. Usopp bit his lip, holding back either embarrassing noises or a few curses for his captain. He couldn’t decide exactly which. “The floor is okay, right?” Luffy didn’t wait for an answer, suddenly tugging at Usopp’s hips and dragging them both down to the floor, Usopp’s back still against the door. Well, he figured, no one would be bathing mid-day anyway…and if they decided they wanted to, the door was pretty thoroughly blocked with their two bodies.

Luffy seemed pleased with the current state of affairs—Usopp’s back to the door, his legs spread awkwardly to accommodate Luffy, whose hands had gone right back to teasing at the edge of his boxers. Usopp realized that Luffy was still fully clothed, which seemed unfair, and moved to voice his concern. Instead he was cut off by Luffy tugging his boxers down to his thighs, only stopping because of the resistance caused by Usopp’s butt being planted firmly on the floor.

“Lift your hips.” Luffy ordered, leaning closer to Usopp so he could nibble at his earlobe after saying it. Usopp didn’t need to be told twice—captain’s orders, after all. He lifted his hips, and Luffy tugged the boxers off him as if they were on fire. Usopp went to close his legs against the room-temperature air, the way it combined with his soaked parts sending a chill up his spine. Luffy’s hands were on his inner thighs in an instant, though, making sure his legs stayed spread.

“Luffy—it’s embarrassing…” He muttered, turning his head away. The sight had been too embarrassing—his captain between his thighs, holding his legs open, hands inching towards where his pussy was starting to drip on the floor. God, he didn’t think he would get this wet…they hadn’t even done anything yet. Maybe it was nerves, he thought. Yeah, nerves. Had to be it.

“Is it?” Luffy responded. His fingers teased softly at the sensitive skin of Usopp’s inner thighs, thumbs rubbing in small circles. They moved incrementally closer to Usopp’s pussy, maddeningly slow. Luffy, the one who usually had no patience, the one who tried to rush everything, was instead spending what felt like hours placing feather-light touches on his thighs. His clit was so hard it was standing at full-mast, peeking out obviously between his lips and throbbing with want.

If Luffy noticed how frustratingly hard Usopp was, he certainly didn’t mention it—or move to do anything about it. Instead he ran his hands against his inner thighs still, marveling at the flinch and clench of Usopp’s toned muscles under his palm. Usopp groaned as an especially strong wave of arousal shot through him, his clit jumping.

“So pretty~!” Luffy said, hands finally sliding to the crook of Usopp’s thighs, thumbs moving to press and tease at Usopp’s pussy lips—appreciating how puffy and wet they were—before spreading them. His clit stood out even more now. It was three inches hard, and being teased to this point was starting to make it hypersensitive. Usopp’s eyes rolled back a bit when Luffy leaned forward, breath puffing hot over the head of his clit.

Luffy had clearly decided he’d wasted enough time, leaning in to take the very tip of Usopp’s clit into his mouth, teasing the small ridge at the head with his lips before sucking. He took more in, keeping the suction strong before bobbing his head just a little, taking in more of Usopp’s clit in each time until his nose was buried in Usopp’s pubes and his entire clit was nestled nicely on top of Luffy’s tongue.

Luffy rolled his tongue over the bottom side of Usopp’s clit in a way that made his hips jump, his thighs clenching tight around Luffy’s head suddenly. He was so incredibly sensitive at this point that he knew he was going to come soon. If Luffy knew that, he certainly didn’t mind, going back to bobbing happily on Usopp’s clit before pulling away so he could lick long strips up the sides and top, tongue catching on the hood in a way that made Usopp keen.

Luffy’s fingers joined in quickly, two of them rubbing and stroking at Usopp’s clit before tugging the hood back enough to expose a significant length of it, which Luffy gladly sucked and lapped at, spurred on by Usopp’s shaking legs and twitching hips. Luffy’s hot, wet tongue pressed right against where the hood of his clit ended and teased at it before he took the whole clit into his mouth to suck on again, and Usopp came undone.

He pressed his hips up—hard—his clit jumping against Luffy’s tongue as he came. Luffy continued to suck at him through his orgasm, only backing off when Usopp’s forward thrusts slowed down.

Luffy sat back up for a quick moment, allowing Usopp to see that his captain’s face was absolutely covered in slick and spit at this point. It was practically dripping off his chin. Usopp felt floaty and giddy, and even though he knew he should be doing something—maybe actually working on getting Luffy into the same state of undress he was in, for one—he couldn’t find it in him to move from where he sat.

It was embarrassing, but also sent a fresh shot of arousal through him to be sitting there, prone before his captain. His legs were still spread, the lips of his pussy puffy with arousal and use and his clit already threatening to twitch into hardness again at the thought.

Luffy seemed to appreciate the fact that Usopp was already gearing up for another go—he gave him a quick once-over, pressed a surprising, chaste kiss to Usopp’s lips, and then moved back to what seemed to have become Luffy’s new favorite place: between Usopp’s legs. He ran his hands over Usopp’s thighs again as if it would soothe the shaking. Usopp glanced down, groaning at the sight of Luffy sitting there, licking his lips and staring at his pussy in hunger.

He moved closer finally, shoving his face up against the wetness and shoving his tongue into Usopp’s hole. He nuzzled against him, the bridge of his nose pressing teasingly against the underside of his clit as he used his mouth and face to spread Usopp’s pussy lips so he could dip his tongue in deeper. Luffy’s tongue lapped at his entrance, the captain making a throaty, contented sound at the taste, one of his hands reaching up to pinch his clit roughly between his fingers before beginning to stroke him, jacking him off at a steady pace—one that matched the pace of Luffy’s tongue licking long strips over his entrance before thrusting inside.

The combination of Luffy’s tongue shoving into his hole while Luffy jacked him off, hood of his clit messily sliding back and forth under the ministrations of his fingers, was enough to drive him dangerously close to the edge. Almost as if he could feel that Usopp was about to cum, Luffy pulled his hand away. Usopp whined, bucking his hips up against Luffy’s face hard enough to shove his tongue deeper. Luffy made a surprised sound against Usopp’s pussy before a chuckle escaped him.

Usopp froze, shoulders tensing up. That chuckle had sounded foreboding, to say the least. He knew his captain had something planned—and considering who his captain was, it wasn’t hard to imagine that whatever he had planned was absolutely ridiculous. He pulled away a bit—enough that Usopp could see the way his face was coated in slick, and wasn’t that just a pretty sight? He took the moment to enjoy not having to worry about beardburn, either. It wasn’t that Sanji wasn’t amazing at eating him out, it was just…a bit of beard conditioner probably wouldn’t hurt. Before his train of thought could get far too off track, Luffy was back, his tongue pressing into his hole again.

And pressing in…and pressing in.

Usopp pressed his hands against the floor hard enough that anyone watching would’ve thought he was trying to launch himself up the door vertically—a chant of “oh, oh, _oh_ ” escaped him and his feet kicked out from where they’d been propped up, thighs shaking. Luffy’s tongue was inside him—deep inside him. He could feel the press of Luffy’s smile as the captain continued with the misuse of his powers, shoving his tongue further and expanding it more and more until it felt like Usopp was full up of cock. Well, if cock were prehensile and moved to press its tip right against his g-spot, that was.

Luffy’s tongue pumped in and out of him, the tip pressing and lapping at his g-spot with such accuracy it was making Usopp’s eyes roll back in his head. Luffy pulled back enough that he could watch Usopp’s face, but kept his tongue inside him. It should’ve been unappealing—Luffy’s big eyes glancing up at him, his mouth hung wide open to let a ridiculous amount of tongue hang out, only to disappear inside of Usopp’s pussy. It felt far too good for him to be preoccupied with looks, though. Sure, it looked weird, but the way the warm, wet muscle writhed around in him was driving him mad.

Each thrust and wriggle was bringing him closer and closer to the edge, and he could tell that this time Luffy was going to let him have it. He moaned, bucking his hips fervently, begging for Luffy’s tongue to go even deeper, to expand even more. He wanted his captain to wreck his pussy with just his mouth—and he knew for a fact Luffy was perfectly capable of doing so.

“Luffy—fuck, Luffy, _please_ —” Usopp’s complaints trailed off into a whine as Luffy curled his tongue against his g-spot again, drawing tiny circles with the tip of it. He was so deep in him it felt criminal. Then, Luffy’s hands were back on his clit, working it sloppier this time. The press and flick of hot, wet tongue against his sensitive insides with the added messy movements of Luffy’s fingers all over his clit, jerking it this way and that and pulling at the hood was getting to be too much. Luffy’s fingers jammed up against his clit, rubbing it almost violently, pads of his fingers running over the ridge at the head as Luffy’s tongue pressed hard against his g-spot and Usopp was cumming, vision whiting out as he practically screamed.

Luffy’s fingers worked at his clit still as a geyser of cum spurted from him, stream hitting Luffy square in the face. Usopp’s legs tensed, his hips lifting off the floor, shoulders bunched up. He was still making noise, overly loud and high-pitched, breathing heavy as the stream finally died down, trickling off. Usopp murmured some nonsense as he glanced down at the puddle his orgasm had caused. It looked like he had wet himself—all over Luffy, too. Luffy pulled away, tongue snapping back to normal size in his mouth almost comically. His face was positively soaked, cum dripping down his chin. Even his shirt was soaked—which led Usopp to realize that his captain was still, maddeningly, fully clothed.

Usopp grumbled and closed his legs before moving to crawl towards Luffy, grabbing at his shirt and pulling it down Luffy’s thin, toned arms.

“I wanna touch you too,” Usopp admitted, face burning at his own statement. Luffy laughed in response, moving to undo the sash around his waist. Usopp glanced down to where Luffy’s hands were working, swallowing hard when he noticed the straining bulge in Luffy’s shorts. He wanted to see it. He wanted to touch it.

“Then do!” Luffy said, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. He let his legs fall open further, tossing his sash off somewhere on the bathroom floor. Usopp bit his lower lip, tracing his hands over Luffy’s torso after his shirt had been shoved all the way off. Luffy’s skin was soft—even the area where it was dipped and dimpled from his scar didn’t have a rough texture, but instead had just as much give as the rest of him. Luffy let something between a chuckle and a moan slip from him, hips bucking up almost violently when Usopp’s hands neared the waistband of his shorts.

Usopp couldn’t help but chuckle back—he hadn’t even been putting any serious effort into the touching yet, hesitant and worried he might do something wrong. It was comforting, though, to know that even his unsure touches felt good for Luffy. The next time he ran his hand over Luffy’s torso—fingers trailing teasingly from the waistband of those shorts back up to his chest—he was bolder. He paused to trace his fingers over Luffy’s scar, more sure of his own touch. Then, he flicked a thumb over one of Luffy’s nipples. The gasp that came from Luffy and the way the small, soft nub hardened only boosted his confidence more.

He moved so that both hands were on Luffy’s pecs, squeezing the lean muscle there and appreciating the softness of his skin, pausing now and then to tease at the small pink nipples on Luffy’s chest, flicking and pulling them to see what noises he could pull from Luffy’s wet lips. Luffy’s skin, on top of being soft, was—of course—stretchy. His nipples stretched further than a normal person’s would, making Usopp chuckle a bit.

“Stop teasing,” Luffy whined, his hips thrusting up aggressively, reminding Usopp of the hardness still trapped in those denim shorts. Usopp laughed, giving Luffy’s nipples a final tug that left him shivering before he moved his hands down again, this time moving to press a palm to the hard line of Luffy’s cock through the fabric. He undid the button and zipper, a sound of surprise slipping from him when Luffy’s cock sprung free.

“No underwear?” He asked, surprised at the teasing, confident tone that his voice seemed to have. Luffy laughed, nodding.

“Gets in the way.” He added simply, before following it up with a small whine and another thrust of his hips. It was hard to take the whine as seriously desperate with the grin spread on Luffy’s face, though. The grin was quickly wiped off and replaced with an expression of pure need when Usopp moved his hand to grip at Luffy’s cock, though.

That expression was gorgeous on Luffy—Usopp immediately decided he needed to see more of it, and wasted no time adjusting so that he could dip down, tongue lapping at the head of Luffy’s dick. The moan that escaped him was delicious—Luffy didn’t hold back anything, ever. Usopp felt his clit throb at the sound. Luffy’s dick was already soaked with pre-cum (as were the inside of his shorts, probably), bitter and slick. Usopp teased around the head, lapping it up before he pressed forward, letting more of Luffy’s cock fill up his mouth.

He wasn’t particularly good at stuff like this, but Luffy was moaning and shaking like it was the best blowjob in the world—that was enough to keep him going. He bobbed his head up and down, Luffy’s cock finally brushing the back of his throat—Luffy gasped, hand suddenly grasping at Usopp’s hair and hips thrusting forward, making Usopp cough. He pulled away slightly, tears springing up at the corners of his eyes. Luffy muttered something apologetic, but didn’t move his hand from Usopp’s hair—instead, he twisted his fingers deeper into the curls.

Spurred on by the feeling, Usopp went back sooner than he usually would’ve, dipping down deep on Luffy’s cock again, humming in an effort to not choke. The vibrations coursed up Luffy’s cock, pulling noisy moans from him again. Usopp had the presence of mind to press his hands to Luffy’s hips, holding them still this time. His hands almost fit around Luffy’s whole hip, since his captain was so slender. The thought made him groan—this man who was so powerful, who could sink ships with just his fists, was at his mercy. Was not only whining and moaning for more of his mouth, but also running those powerful, surprisingly small and soft hands through his hair with just-contained passion.

He pulled away, holding the head of Luffy’s cock on his tongue as he glanced up at him, wanting to see his face. Luffy’s cheeks were read, his face wet with sweat and slick from eating Usopp out, his eyes glazed and set skyward. Usopp took the base of his cock in his hand before running his tongue around the head, watching how Luffy shuddered, his eyes fluttering closed as he panted out a moan.

“’M close, Usopp…” Luffy muttered, wriggling his hips enough that the head of his cock slid against Usopp’s tongue. Usopp felt himself smirking as he worked with the small push and pull of Luffy’s hips, loosening his grip enough on them to let him move more. Luffy was already loud—his moans unabashed and gravelly, but now Usopp was sure the whole crew could hear them. He pumped the parts of Luffy’s cock that his mouth couldn’t reach, the slide of his hand from the base to the center aided by the spit-slick that had slid down Luffy’s whole cock.

He let Luffy fuck shallowly into his mouth, his tongue curled around the head, guiding the way. Luffy’s hand tightened in his hair, hips stuttering and moans growing in pitch before he tensed, hips stopped in the air and mouth held open in a silent shout as he came into Usopp’s mouth. Usopp closed his mouth over the head of Luffy’s cock, milking him through his orgasm, only pulling away when Luffy’s hips fell and his thighs began shaking with overstimulation.

He swallowed, licking his lips and trying to catch any cum that may have escaped. He moved away so he could sit up, stretching his shoulders. Luffy was still sitting back, face tilted towards the ceiling, looking blissed-out.

Usopp chuckled, cutting himself off as he spied something on the bathroom floor, near where Luffy’s sash had been tossed.

The lube.

The lube they’d _stolen_ from Robin’s flower garden—that supposedly belonged to Franky? Or Franky and Robin?

The lube they _hadn’t even used_.

He found himself laughing uncontrollably—enough so that Luffy lifted his head, finally scooting into a sitting position and adjusting himself back into his shorts, expression curious. Usopp pointed, teary-eyed, at the lube, which was enough to get Luffy laughing too. Suddenly, he was being tackled by his still-laughing captain, and they were sprawled on the floor, giggling over stolen, unused lube.

“…Sanji was right.” Usopp muttered softly, catching his breath from the laughing fit.

“Hm?” Luffy’s voice was somewhere near his ear, his captain twisted in some ridiculous pretzel around his bare body. “Sanji was right.” He said louder. “This—this does make it make more sense.” He ran a hand down Luffy’s back, smiling at the way his captain wiggled. “It…it was great. And I wanna do it…again…” Luffy’s tongue at his ear made him swat at him, adding a quick, “not right _now_!” before continuing.

“Anyway. I wanna do it again sometime, but it’s still…different from with Sanji, y’know?” Luffy unwound himself from Usopp, moving to flop over on his back on the bathroom floor.

“Well, yeah. Of course it’s different! I’m not Sanji!” And there it was—said like it was the simplest thing in the world. Usopp stared up at the ceiling, questioning how big of a deal he’d made out of it—he knew Sanji didn’t mind, but when Luffy said it like that, he felt a bit foolish for kicking up such a fuss in the first place.

“So, then, it’s okay?” He asked—wincing as soon as the question left his mouth. Luffy snickered.

“That’s not my job to decide!” He answered, standing up. “I get to decide…hmmmmm…that I want a bath.” A towel was tossed into Usopp’s face, making him sputter and sit up. “Make sure I don’t drown in the tub, okay?!”

“W-wait! Luf _fy_!”

**Author's Note:**

> These aren't in any particular order--it just depends on which fics I finish first, honestly. There are some that occur before certain relationships have started and some that occur after almost all of the Strawhats have some sort of thing going on--which one it is will usually be mentioned within the chapter.


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